Chase’s scowl deepened, then he glanced at Mira. “Captain, your call for us to stand down was a solid one. You probably saved our lives.”
“All except one,” she murmured thickly.
Kellan wrapped his arm around Mira’s shoulders and drew her close to him. “We all signed on for this mission knowing we might not come back. I’m sure Bal would tell you that too.”
Rio nodded. “The Order goes into every mission with the understanding it could be our last. But after seeing what happened here tonight? We’ve never had to be prepared for anything like this before.”
Dante slanted his comrade a sober look. “The rules of the game have changed, my friend. Opus is making that point loud and clear.”
“Yes, they are,” Chase agreed. “And that means we either adapt fast, or die trying.”
From his crouch beside Kaya, Aric glanced up at his father and the rest of the Breed warriors gathered in the small space. “If this is our new reality, the Order’s going to need more daywalkers.”
CHAPTER 23
Following the shitstorm they’d encountered at Scrully’s estate, the teams had returned to base haggard from the battle and somber over the loss of one of their own. Aric shared the disappointment of his Order brethren, but it was concern for Kaya that racked him during the couple of hours since they had arrived at the command center.
He’d kept his distance while Rafe tended her wounds on the drive back, if only because the cinnamon and roses scent of her blood was a torment he could hardly bear. His mouth still watered at the thought alone, his fangs still throbbing with the ache of his hunger. His own wounds would have benefited greatly from nourishment, but the idea of going out to the city in search of a blood Host was the last thing on his mind. Especially when the only vein he truly thirsted for was Kaya’s.
So it was probably a mistake to be standing outside the closed door of her room, yet for the past full minute, that’s where Aric had been. He needed to see her, make sure she was all right. Time away from her after nearly losing her in combat tonight was a torment all of its own. Swearing under his breath at his own weakness, he dropped his knuckles against the door.
She opened it without asking who was there, and the sight of her healed and whole, dressed in a soft top and loose-fitting yoga pants, dragged a low sound of relief from him. At least until he saw her dark brown eyes and the pain that clouded them.
“You’ve been crying.”
She swiped at the faint traces of wetness that streaked her cheeks and stepped away from the open doorway, an unspoken invitation for Aric to come inside. He closed the door behind him and followed her to the small living area of her suite. A half-empty bottle of wine and an empty glass sat on the cocktail table between the sitting area and a cozy fireplace that crackled with the embers of a dying fire.
She curled into the corner of the sofa, tucking her legs up and wrapping her arms around her knees. In the short time he had known her, he had seen Kaya Laurent stubborn and tenacious, fearless and unflagging. Now, he saw a tender vulnerability in the courageous woman that carved a hollow in his chest. He wanted to be the one to protect her from all hurts, physical and otherwise. It astonished him how deeply he wanted to be the only man she turned to for all of her needs . . . and her desires.
Including the most essential, sacred one that existed between a Breed male and his mate.
The one he wanted despite the many questions and niggling suspicions he couldn’t seem to shake when it came to this female.
Aric sat down beside her. “If your injuries need more care, tell me and we can go find Rafe.”
The words tasted like sawdust on his tongue, but it was all he had to offer her. It was a relief when she shook her head in denial.
“It’s not my body that hurts, it’s my heart. I still can’t believe Bal’s gone.”
Aric nodded, but inside he felt a jolt of uncertainty now. The memory of Kaya wearing a massively oversized shirt that could only have belonged to the behemoth of a male sank sharp talons into him. “Did you love him?”
“Yes.” She turned her face toward him when her answer had made Aric’s molars clamp together. “Bal was kind to me from my first day at the command center. I loved him like a brother, Aric. Like a friend. I always will.”
“Of course,” he answered, consoled that he wouldn’t have to spend the rest of his days envying a dead man.
Kaya reached for his hand, twining her fingers through his. “I was so scared when Webb reported that you’d run alone into the gunfire at Scrully’s place.” A strangled breath caught in her throat. “God, Aric. If you had died tonight too--”
“I didn’t.” He pulled her close, into the circle of his arm. Her freshly washed hair was sweet and silky soft against his lips as he kissed the top of her head. “I’m right here, baby.”
She nestled against him, her fingers stroking over his clean T-shirt at the places where his torso had taken multiple enemy rounds, including more than one UV bullet. The wounds were healed now, but the entry points were still raised and tender. “Does it hurt when I touch you?”
“Only in the best way.” He lifted her chin and gazed down into her soft eyes. “Touch me anytime you like. You’re never going to hear me complain.”
He brushed his lips over hers, groaning when the brief kiss shot through him like pure flame. He tore away from her sweet mouth with more restraint than he realized he possessed. But only barely. Everything Breed in him yearned to take Kaya . . . to claim her as his regardless of the separate paths their lives were on.
Maybe she sensed the thinness of his control. God knew it was hard for her to miss the sudden surge of his fangs behind his lip, or the simmering glow of his irises as he stared at her, doing his damnedest to bite back the word that leapt to his tongue every time he looked at her.
Mine.
